Fleeting Dream!
by Zero10
Summary: What happens when it is the fate weaving the future of those carrying the torch? Bearing the will of those who came before them, & harnessing the might of those who stood with them, they are the ones destined to shape the new era. Be it the revolution or a feud, the treacherous sea or the World Government, if it is the fate enacting the play, then they all are pawns to be played.
1. Prologue!

**Ben 10 & One Piece crossover!**

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own Ben 10 or One Piece. These amazing cartoon and anime belongs to their relevant owners i.e. Man of Action and Eiichiro Oda, blah blah blah.**

 **You know the drill.**

* * *

 **Chapter 01**

 **Prologue!**

* * *

 **Fleeting Dream!**

* * *

Somewhere on an unknown and isolated island in the West Blue, there exists a small community named Bellwood. As small as the place was, there was still prosperity and peace, spared by the rampage of the nefarious bandits and despicable pirates. The reason was because the town could offer little for the inconvenience said deviants must go through to get to it. However, in one of the houses, the peace mattered little with the morning paper displaying what it had to offer the world. Another unreasonable incident from which details were censored, much like the missing century and many more unknown to the people.

How ironic it was.

Those who sought to learn about the history would be remembered by few existences.

"As I feared, they truly massacred the entire island." The man with brown hair sighed deeply. "Just what I had been afraid of. They must have somehow learnt of the archaeologists researching the void century. Now there's no Ohara proud archaeologists, no residents, no children, no history, they didn't even spare the ancient great Tree of Knowledge. They slaughtered everyone. Not a single survivor. Those heartless bastards didn't even spare the innocents who had no ties with the Poneglyph. It must have been terrible to them."

The blonde-haired woman placed her tea cup on the table and came around behind the man. Leaning forward, she hugged him from behind and exhaled deeply. "Carl, you know you couldn't have done anything for them." She muttered slowly. "It's not like you hadn't tried to warn them of the outcome for deciphering the Poneglyphs. I don't see anything that could have been done any different. There is always something that cannot be avoided... cannot be opposed... cannot be won against, and we must accept it. They knew, and yet they honoured their work and learnt more of the world history than anyone else, and that is because you never broke your promise. You never told anyone. We must be proud of them, just like they must have been of you."

"It says here that the Oharans were digging forbidden knowledge in order to destroy the world, and were therefore obliterated." Carl grunted, the distaste obvious in his voice. "I bet the World Government and Navy HQ made this up, so as to cover up their dirty action. I had warned Olvia to not pursue the Poneglyphs, but she was adamant, and now there is no Ohara anymore. Our homeland is completely wiped off the map, and no one gives a shit about it. I wonder if it had been worth it."

Sandra sighed and reluctantly broke her touch with her husband, when the adorable sound of a baby-cry reverberated throughout the house. "Let's leave Ohara behind us. It's been six years since we sailed off the island. It's time we move toward the future." She disappeared into the other room momentarily and returned with a new-born baby, who smiled innocently at the depressed man with a happy gleam in his bright emerald eyes. "After all, we now have a little son to look after, and I don't want anything but the best for him."

Carl nodded, inhaling deeply and plopping the newspaper on the table. "You and me both. Even though I was reluctant to leave the Tree of Knowledge and them, I still resented their daring. Why risk your lives for something that was buried centuries ago?" He sighed audibly. "I thought I was being rather selfish for abandoning them, and perhaps I was, but I wish they understood my reasoning." He said, rising to his feet and then approaching his little son. Having those little fingers grip his thumb tightly, the sensation was ecstatic and it flooded his heart. "At least, I don't have any regrets, not now anyway." He then leaned back and sighed. "I should be going, Sandra. It is getting pretty late. There is a trade I must look into."

The little boy could only smile at his father.

* * *

"Hey, are you alright? I… I read what happened to Ohara."

Carl smiled slightly and peered at his brother, Frank, casually putting the bills back on the desk. "I am fine. Thanks for asking though." He replied, feigning a little nonchalance. "I knew it would happen, sooner or later… about Ohara, I mean. It was just… too sudden, that's all. I suppose, I wasn't really prepared for it yet, like I thought."

Frank amended his spectacles and looked at the bills, a few unsanctioned and needed approval, still scattered on the desk. "Then, what are you worried about?"

"I am not… uh, I-I read about Robin, Olivia's daughter in the newspaper." Carl shook his head distressingly. "She has got some bounty on her head. She must have survived the attack, but to cover up everything, the World Government has accused her of sinking five marine warships, and so the seventy-nine million Berries bounty. Just more of their petty bullshits if you ask me, but this kind of bounty will attract dangerous people. She is just a little girl. Last I saw her, she was only two. I can't imagine how she must be hanging in there." He rubbed his forehead and then closed his eyes. "Sandra loved her like a daughter. I couldn't muster the strength to break it to her. Those government bastards must be really desperate to catch her. Perhaps, they don't intend to catch her, but end her life."

"Keep your head clear, Carl. No one except Harvey knows about your past archaeologist profession or your connection with Ohara. Don't speak about those things in public. You never know who might harbour ill will towards you in this world." Frank said, accentuating his every word. "I am sure if she fled Ohara, then she will be alright... somehow. I guess I am being too optimistic, but so are you." He assured his older brother. "By the way, Natalie told me that she and Gwen are going to visit Sandra and Ben later. They are probably gonna hang out, so would you like to join us in the bar?"

"Us?"

"Oh, just us friends. Rodge and the others." Frank shrugged his shoulders. "It's on Harvey though. I heard he has been stressed and wants to let out some steam." He chuckled mirthfully. "Anyway, you could enjoy a little distraction too, believe it or not. All these recent Ohara things are getting to you."

"What's wrong with him? I mean Harvey." Carl arched an eyebrow, smoothly switching the conversation. "Is it about his dad? Last I heard, the mayor was admitted to the hospital four days ago. He is alright, isn't he?"

"Nah, the mayor is alright. He is a tough guy for his age. Doc gave him clean chit a couple days ago, and the guy is already dealing with town troubles." Frank then smiled knowingly. "It's actually about Mrs. Levin. I think Harvey is rather interested in her – extremely so, and that gives him a scare."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, and Natalie thinks that Mrs. Levin likes him too, but Harvey is clueless about it all." Frank shrugged. "Women's intuition, I will never understand it." He and Carl shared a good-natured laugh. "But, yeah, that's what he is stressed about." He then inhaled deeply and plopped on a chair. "So, are you up for tonight?"

"I am not sure." Carl hesitated before continuing. "I am not sure how Sandra is holding up. We spend the better part of our life in Ohara. The losses, I just want to make sure that she is alright. I think she still believes that Robin died along with the others, since I didn't mention her specifically, and unless she reads the paper, she won't know."

"You know, that's what Natalie is there for?"

"I suppose."

Frank then looked meaningfully at Carl. "You know what, I am glad that you gave up on deciphering those Poneglyphs, and decided to leave Ohara behind."

"Me too."

* * *

Carl and Frank sauntered through the vacant street, heading towards the former's house near the outskirts, mildly drunk, but comfortably silent as they trudged to their destination. The day had been relatively ordinary, and hanging out with the townsfolk was an adequate, but pleasant experience. Shuttering from the slight chillness in the air, they quickened their pace and soon found themselves in front of the house. Carl turned the knob and with a little shove, opened the door. He entered, followed by Frank, who shut the door behind him. However, when their eyes adjusted to the sight, they froze in their tracks. Carl noted the familiar old man sitting on the chair, drinking tea. The man was donning a white shirt underneath the familiar red button-up Hawaiian shirt paired with brown pants and black shoes. A crimson coat with golden shoulder pads and golden trimming was draped upon him like cape.

"Dad?"

The old man chuckled apprehensively and rose from his seat. "Not the expressions I had anticipated, but it will do. Both of you sure have grown up since the last time I was here." He smiled genuinely. "I am delighted to see you two are doing alright. Congratulation, my sons, on becoming dads and making me grandpa. That is the best news I have heard in a while."

Carl was the first to overcome the initial shock. "Where were you all this time?" He then shook his head dismissively. "No, never mind that. Just tell me when you got here?" He then looked evocatively at the older man. "And, how did you even know that I live here?"

Max laughed. "Don't worry. No one knows I am here, Carl. I haven't been in the news since Roger's execution, and people care little about those whom they don't remember. Being a commoner has its perks. But the World Government is something else. I am sure they will eventually track me down, if I stayed in a place for too long." He then plopped back down on the chair, while Carl and Frank took a seat with their respective anxious wives. "Actually… I read about Ohara, so I got worried about you. I knew that Frank had settled here the last time I had visited. Luckily, I had been in the West Blue, so it didn't take long to get here. When I got here earlier, I found you two with the townsfolk." He said, peering at his sons. "Didn't take me long to find my way around here. I was surprised and really happy when I heard you both got married and I have become a grandpa. Time sure has flown."

Frank let out an amused chuckle. "You do know you risked a great deal to get on this island, don't you?" He then smiled. "By the way, their names are Benjamin and Gwendolyn." Max nodded slightly, sharing the laugh with his family. "So, you didn't answer the question. Where have you been all this time? Gold Roger was executed two years ago, and there has been no sign of you since. It's almost as if you vanished off the seas."

Max shook his head. "Just on the run from marines and keepin' tabs on the New World activities." He said, emphasizing more on the 'on the run' part. "And, his name wasn't Gold Roger. It was Gol D. Roger, the Pirate King."

"D.?" Carl gasped.

Max sighed deeply. "Yeah, he was some guy, and a very close friend of mine." He muttered. "Since his execution, the entire crew of the Roger Pirates has scattered and went their separate ways. The World Government had their hands full with the beginning of the Great Pirate Era and new pirates setting sail, so it was easier for me to slip through their grasps." He then rose from his seat and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Anyway, I just came here to see you boys, and I am glad that you both are alright. It's a relief to know. I had been real worried since I read… never mind. I suppose, I was being paranoid. I should be leaving. If I set sail now, no one would know about me coming here."

"You are leaving already, Dad?" Carl interjected.

Max looked at his oldest son as he picked a dark cloak. "It's better for us all." He sighed apologetically. "Even if I want to settle down, the Navy HQ and the World Government won't grant me such luxury. I am too much of an outlaw for such a life. When I had set sail as a pirate all those years ago, I knew the life I was choosing." He inhaled deeply. "Then I spent my entire life fighting pirates and sailing and hiding my surname, so that you didn't have to suffer the consequences. I would rather not stay here, and jeopardize my years of effort with your life." He ambled toward the door and then stopped, smiling ruefully at his family, particularly at Carl. "I am glad that you didn't pursue what the Ohara's archaeologists did, Carl. But, I will tell you this much. Your son possesses what many don't. Even if you deny your inherited will, it's impossible to extinguish the flames. Someone else will carry the torch. I do not know what waits in store for my grandson…" He turned around opened the door. "…so, if it's possible, raise him to be a good man."

The entire Tennyson family watched the old man close the door behind him, and soon his fading footsteps became silent. The old man was gone, but his words still rung in the ears of those who could merely gawk at the door.

* * *

At three years, old, Ben was playing tag with the town's children in an open field around the outskirts of near the forest. The brown hair became unkempt, as he chased down the closest kid. He suddenly tripped and fell face-first into the dirt. Amused and entertained laughter reverberated as the other children surrounded him. He slowly pushed himself back on his feet, and wiped the dirt off his face, then his clothes and eventually his hands and knees, and immediately began pursuing the kids around hoping to tag them. Eventually, he gave up, collapsing on his back.

"Hey, Ben, are you gonna give up?" Ben stuck his tongue out at one of the boys with raven hair as he sat cross-legged.

"I am tired… and hungry. I don't wanna play anymore." He then rose to his feet and sauntered further towards the edge of the forest, sitting down on the rock grumpily. He glared at the raven-haired boy. That guy was only a year older than him, and such an... idiot? He vigorously shook his head and puffed up his cheeks, ignoring the kids making fun of him. _'Yup, Kevin is a baka. I am not talking to that baka ever again.'_

The others resumed their play. It didn't take long for the little boy to find himself getting bored of watching the others play. Peering around, the forest piqued his attention, and he started sauntering idly towards the woods. Running his palms across some thick trees, he clicked his tongue as something stabbed his thumb.

"Ouch." He quickly retracted his hand and sucked the thumb, but didn't let the little pain hold back his exploring.

Ten minutes, eleven minutes, and soon it turned into half hour, and then an hour, and he couldn't help but marvel at the sights. The last hours of day was pursued by the fainting daylight and the little growl from his tummy reminded him that he was hungry, making him turned around to return back to his friends. But instead, he started trudging deeper into the woods, calling out for his parents and friend. He was lost.

"Mommy! Daddy! Baka Kevin!"

Another loud growl messed up his priorities and compelled him to look around for something to eat. His eyes drew to the tree garnished with red apples. The momentary smile on his face was replaced by sadness. He had no means to get his hand on one. The brunette grouchily plopped down on the ground. Hearing something impact with the ground, his eyes inadvertently drew to the apple that rolled up to him. He peered around for anyone who might have helped him, and his emerald eyes focused on something that fled into the woods. Quickly rising to his feet, he ran after the… something, only to return back to pick up the apple.

"I forgot this." Ben then once again ran into the direction in which that something fled. Eventually he found himself in a clearing where a young girl was sitting on a large rock and pitching smaller rocks into the river. He approached the raven-haired girl cautiously and stood behind her. "Um... who are you?"

The girl's neck snapped around as she jerked backward, falling on her bottom. Her blue eyes with big pupils were wide in shock as she stared at the little boy, startled. Gulping down the lump in her throat, she said slowly. "I am Robin."

Ben tilted his head to the side, and blinked at her. "Did you pluck this apple for me?" Robin nodded slowly, pushing herself back to her feet, prompting Ben to crane his neck upward to look at her. He then bowed slightly and smiled cheerfully. "Thank you." Robin acknowledged his words with another nod of her head and strolled towards the bank, sitting on the edge with her legs dipped in the water. The boy tailed her and sat beside her, his leg also dipped in the water, and began munching on the fruit. In between bites, he peered at the girl inquisitively. "Why are you here alone?"

"I could ask the same from you."

"Uh?"

Robin looked into the curious emerald orbs of the boy. "What are you doing here? Aren't you too young to roam in the forest alone?"

Ben laughed sheepishly. "I was playing tag with my friends, but they were too fast. So, I began tagging butterflies and then I couldn't tag a deer, but I tagged three more big trees, a big rock and sixteen beautiful flowers." He counted them on his fingers, as he listed everything. "Then I got lost... and I got hungry too, but I couldn't get the apple." He smiled. "How did you get lost?"

"I didn't."

"Uh?"

"I came here because I don't have anywhere else to go." Robin muttered, leaning back and placing her palms on the ground to support her, as she began kicking at the water. She noted that her new companion was mimicking her as he chewed the last bite. "Anyway, if you follow the river, you can return to town in ten minutes. Your parents must be really worried about you."

Ben tilted his head to look at his companion properly, and then smiled. "You are not going back?"

"No." Robin noted the brunet's frown from her peripheral vision. She turned around to get clear look and instead found him... disappointed? No, it was much too complicated for her immature brain to comprehend. He was looking at her with strange eyes that confounded her. She lacked words to express it, but she remembered that she had experienced it before. Her mom, her only friend, the other archaeologists; it was same as when she had looked into their eyes. Hesitantly, she asked. "What's wrong?"

"Why are you not going back?"

Robin blinked in astonishment, more perplexed than surprised. "Why do you want me to go back?"

"Cuz, I want to befriend you. Mommy says to be a good boy, and be friends with everyone." Ben said, laughing sheepishly. "I am friends with everyone, even with mommy and daddy, and baka Kevin, so I am a good boy. I promise I will be a good friend to you."

Robin looked away and wiped the stray tear that somehow found a way into her eyes. Standing up, she wiped the dust of her clothes and then peered at the brunet. "C'mon, I will drop you off at your house." Ben smiled and quickly got up. They began walking along the river bank. "So, who is Kevin, and why he is a baka?"

Ben laughed sheepishly. "Baka Kevin is my friend. He always bullies me, so he is a baka. But, he also helps me, so he is my friend, but he is still a baka." Robin giggled as Ben continued. "I have many friends, and I am a good boy too. So, would you be my friend too and play with me?" Robin nodded, resisting the urge to laugh, but that didn't stop Ben from smiling broadly. "Really?"

"Yeah. I would love to."

Ben beamed. "Woo-hoo, I made a new friend."

"But I still don't know your name."

The brunette turned red in embarrassment. "Uh, sorry. My name is Ben."

Robin giggled again. "So, tell me more about yourself?"

* * *

Carl entered the house and plopped down on the chair in the corner, as he rubbed his forehead. Surprisingly, Sandra didn't come out to greet him like usual, but he didn't let that bother him. Perhaps, she was busy. On the other hand, with Ben, nothing was ever certain. He was a troublemaker, but in a good kind of way. Exhaling loudly, he rose again and dragged his exhausted body to the kitchen where he found Sandra pacing around anxiously. Quirking an intrigued eyebrow, he let out an amused chuckle. "Something happened... again?"

Sandra sighed exasperatedly and peered at her husband. "It's Ben. Apparently, he disappeared again, but this time, he went right into the forest and probably got lost. Kevin and Harvey went to search for him, but they haven't returned yet. I swear, he is such a handful." She frowned at the nonchalance of Carl. "Don't go giving me that look. You know how troublesome he can be sometimes. I swear, I take my eyes off him for a second and he is gone outside with his friends, and he is lost again."

Carl laughed dismissively. "Don't worry. The woods are safer than you think. Kids usually get lost there, but they return." He then helped himself to some water to quench his thirst. "Either way, I should probably go and help Harvey search for him. That way we can find him more quickly. The situation is already much more terrible since those Vice-Admirals showed up earlier today." He muttered absentmindedly. "Why they would bother to travel all this way to West Blue is still a mystery to me. It's not like there has been any infamous pirates here."

"Do you think they know-"

"I don't think that is the case, Sandra." Carl interjected. "They don't seem to be here for us. They interrogated Morris and his family earlier and they are still under surveillance at the camp, or so the rumor goes. But it doesn't seem like they are here for them either. More like they are digging for information and it concerns them. I didn't go to see myself, but I had heard that both Akainu and Kizaru are here and the marines are scattered throughout the town. With the Vice Admirals are here, it is a little upsetting. The fact that a Vice Admiral shows up at all is more unnerving-"

"Mommy! Daddy!"

Sandra's face brightened when the voice of her son along with his fanatical knocking filled the house. She went to open the door and greeted her son, ushering him inside. "So, where have you been today, Ben? I let my eyes off you for an instant and you are gone. Do you know how upset everyone was? You always give mommy a scare with your antics. Uncle Harvey and Kevin had to go and search the entire town for you! It's already hard enough for them to climb up here."

Ben tilted his head to the side. "But, Uncle Harvey and baka Kevin didn't bring me here."

Sandra blinked in surprise, and peered outside to find no one there. She then shut the door and tailed the boy back into the kitchen. "So how did you get here?"

Carl interjected his wife. "Cut him some slack, Sandra. He is still a kid." He then ruffled Ben hair and chuckled at his indignant stare. "Someone else must have found him and brought him back. You know how friendly the townsfolk are. I wouldn't be surprised if someone else did it for us."

"Yup, my new friend brought me here.'" Ben smiled. "Her name is Robin."

Both Carl and Sandra froze in shock at the little revelation. Not frozen in ice or time, but as if their very heart had stopped beating momentarily from the blood abruptly turning cold. They shared a glance with each other that was meant for them to understand, and then looked at the oblivious Ben. Sandra was the one who broke the deafening silence that was literally suffocating them. "Ben, how do you know Robin?"

Ben blinked and smiled. "I met her in the forest. I was hungry, so she plucked me an apple, and then brought me here." He exclaimed. "She said she lives in forest, but she would be my new friend and play with me. She is very good and not like baka Kevin. We talked lots and she brought me here. I was a good boy and told her thank you."

"Where is she now?"

Ben peered at his father and replied. "She said she is going back to the forest."

Sandra gave Carl another meaningful glance and then smiled at Ben. "Sweetie, mommy and daddy have to go out and say thanks to your new friend. It was so nice of her to bring you home. We will be back soon. There are some bad people in the town, so promise me you will stay home until we return. If you do that, I promise to make you your favourite meal."

"I promise!"

* * *

"Vice-Admiral Akainu-sir! Emergency report from the duty patrol men, sir. Devil Child Nico Robin has been sighted in the town square."

The said admiral, fair-skinned, tall, muscular and intimidating man with short black hairs and brown emotionless eyes, peered at the lieutenant saluting him. Donning a marine cap under the hood of his coat, he turned around and sauntered toward the lieutenant. His height alone was redoubtable as he towered over the man. "I was informed that she ran away."

"Evidently she was seen along with a kid from town. The marine officer who had sighted her is pursuing her as we speak, sir. Perhaps the townsfolk have been sheltering her." The lieutenant shuddered from the reserved look that emerged on the officer-in-charge. "However, confirmations have yet to be made about her associates in the town."

"Ooh, so the townsfolk were hiding her, were they? This kind of behaviour is unacceptable. Ne, Akainu-san?" said slowly the other big-shot among the marines, Vice Admiral Kizaru, breathing out a ring of smoke from his cigarette. He shared similar physical characteristics to Akainu, and sported a dark hat with gloves, clad in grey pinstriped suit and tie, with the coat as his cape. He smiled rather laxly for someone being so important. "What should be done, Akainu-san? We cannot let the people's betrayal slide, ne? I suppose this is a very conflicting situation."

"Sir, should we report to headquarters?"

"Ooh, but that won't do, Lieutenant-san." Kizaru disputed, scratching his chin slothfully. "It would be right to report after we finish the mission, ne?"

Akainu scoffed. "Definitely." He peered at the lieutenant. "Let those civilians in custody go and instruct all the marines to retreat and report back at the camp within ten minutes. That is all the time for these people have left before I turn this land into their graveyard."

The lieutenant gulped the lump in his throat as he moved his head in the affirmative.

* * *

 **Oops, a cliffhanger!?**

 **Ahem, I suppose this is the idea I had been thinking after toying with several possibilities. Eventually, I decided to stick with this one.**

 **The both universes were merged with more and stronger adversaries in the world of One Piece, sailing the enormous sea. This prologue has mostly rotated around the Tennyson's and slight implications of their background was imparted, like their connection with Gol D. Roger, Ohara and the biggest of all… void century.**

 **We even saw Maxwell Tennyson here. To be on a safe side, pay more attention to what he spoke. Although, most of it would sound insignificant at the moment, several clues were left within his dialogues.**

 **Oh, and I have a small favor to ask. Max Tennyson is a swordsman here, probably among the most infamous ones who had ever sailed the seas. The thing is, like other One Piece characters, he too deserves a badass epithet. Any recommendation on that?**

 **One more thing, Omnitrix won't be obtainable until far later, and Ben won't be eating any Devil Fruit. But, he will have a strong Haki, and will become a strong pirate. But, I was wondering about the kind of fighting style Ben should learn that doesn't just makes him too OP. Strong Haki with proper fighting techniques would level him close to the level of the Shichibukai when he would be only 20, and when he obtains Omnitrix, he might equal a Yonko. Well that was just a thought. I would appreciate some words here.**

 **Also, if you guys have any suggestion for Ben's capabilities, and an epithet for him as well, then I am all ear.**

 **Anyway, I suppose you guys enjoyed what you read. Don't forget to let me know what you honestly think of this. Be blunt about it, but no flames.**

 **But first, a big shout-out to all my betas: 'The God's Eye' & 'Pure Red Crane'. This story is actually worth reading thanks to their keen eyes, which plucked out all the grammatical and typos errors. **

**See you guys on next update and until then, best wishes for the upcoming festive week.**


	2. A Family!

**Chapter 02**

 **A Family!**

* * *

 **Fleeting Dream!**

* * *

A small boat sailed feverishly towards the small island in the middle of the West Blue. The sole occupant, Maxwell Tennyson, was using oars to row the boat, and navigate it through the raging tides, as fast as his wearied arms could. The surging storm threatened to tear the little vessel apart, as defiant winds opposed him with all their might - as if the nature itself differed his advance. He knew it wasn't normal, but he cared little for this knowledge, not with those peculiar red-glowing hails, showering upon the island, like the fireworks of inconceivable intensity, illuminating the nocturnal hours with its glittering luminosity, that rivaled even the moonlight, whilst impenetrable fog leisurely rose towards the dim sky.

Questions clouded his mind, as he anxiously waited to reach the island. Pushing his limit, the older man fanatically rowed, undeterred by the treacherous sea. The same couldn't be said for his ferry, as it met its inevitable end, and was capsized under the violent waves. Surfacing and spitting the brackish water, Maxwell inhaled a good lungful of air, before diving underneath to avoid the towering tides, and then swam in the direction in which he remembered the island was, ignoring the cold freezing water.

* * *

Two humans were scurrying through the burning houses and ruined areas, following the lead of a few others, out of the trashed town, while rubbles from wrecked buildings rained down around and at them. They were panting and weary, but refused to let the fatigue impede their advances, as they fought the inescapable. The pair ducked into another wrecked house along with others, barely avoiding the sweltering meteorite and the barbarous inferno. Deep bruises and burn marks had garnished their bodies, as they haplessly and haphazardly ran, through what was once the peaceful town that was barely recognizable anymore. Suddenly, the woman of the duo tripped and crashed into a terse wooden closet.

"Natalie, are you alright!?"

The woman peered at Frank, the man, with a contrite face and nodded, as she held her bleeding upper right arm that had gotten trapped under piles of burning debris whilst blood dripped from the laceration on her head. Her eyes inadvertently drew towards the little girl, weeping and tied on her husband's back. Smiling ruefully, she said. "I think I have sprained my ankle, and something sharp has scraped my right arm. Sorry… but I don't think I can run anymore. You have to leave me here, leave me and get away with Gwen, before this place collapses on us." She hissed a bit, biting her lips to resist the urge to scream. She wasn't strong like others, but she wanted to be clear for her family.

"What the damn hell are you talking about, damn it!? I ain't leaving you here!" Frank looked around hysterically, but none of the townsfolk were visible. They had fallen behind after his wife's latest injury. Constricting the knot on his front, Frank looked back at his wife assuringly, and shoved the burning boards away barehanded, before pulling her left arm over his shoulder, and dragging her reluctant body along. "C'mon get up. I will carry both of you if I have to. We are already near the pier. It is just right behind this house. Just got to go around from the next corner and we are at pier. So please just hold on for a little longer, okay?"

"Frank, you don't understand. I would just slow you down. Gwen doesn't deserve any of this. Please-"

"Shut up, damn it!" Frank barked desperately. "Just shut up already. You don't deserve any of this either, so stop saying that you are slowing me down. I am not leaving any of you behind as long as I have breath left in me."

Frank toddled out of the wrecked shelter, and found the few survivors scampering into another building. But before he could call for help, another smoldering meteor went thundering into the standing building. The structure didn't stand a chance, shattering like it was made of glass, as flames incinerated everything in a wide-radius. The quake caused by its impact, decimated more of the already wrecked and unbalanced structures, that were still somehow standing. The remnant shockwave propelled Frank and Natalie back into their temporary shelter.

A minute passed… then another… and then another. Eventually, the red-haired woman stirred, rousing from her hallucination. Grunting from the pain that flooded her entire body, Natalie glanced around and found Frank on his front and on the ground at the other end, but… Gwen wasn't with him. She twisted her arm, and resisted the urge to scream as she tried to pull the limb out from under the pile of debris, but to no avail. She lacked the strength to even move a muscle after that. She trundled her head around to get a better look at Frank, whose shirt and sleeves were soaked in blood from the wounds he had suffered, tiny wrecked shards sticking out of him because he had shoved her behind him during the explosion, while more gore pooled beneath him.

"Fra-Frank. Frank!? Are you okay!? Wake up, Frank!"

Natalie watched hapless as Frank's life hung by a thread. She then fervently peered around, craning her neck to search for her little daughter, but with her movements restricted, and the little her eyes could discern in the smokes, she was certain Gwen wasn't there, or she wasn't conscious. Wretchedness and dread washed over her, as she struggled to free herself with more vigor, but the anguish would soon become much more unbearable. She wiped a lone tear off her face with her free hand and collapsed back down on her back. The excruciating pain was too absorbing to move around too much, and she doubted she had much breath left in her.

She closed her eyes and couldn't help but weep, weep for her husband… for her young little daughter… for her incompetence to do anything. She could hear the suffering screams of a few survivors, who were running around desperately, hoping to somehow get out of the loops of flames. She only wished her daughter would be one of them… somehow, so that she could live on.

* * *

Kevin peered toward the island, as the merchant brig sailed off the coast with the survivors, who had escaped their doom. Someone amongst them had found him in the town, and had carried him along, instead of letting him search for his mother, and endanger himself more amidst the chaos. Now he could only hopelessly watch the demise of his hometown, inept to do anything for his mother. The glowering meteors had appeared out of nowhere and then showered randomly upon the entire island from the sky, had already massacred most of the populace. Factions after factions of the what remained continued to perish in the burning rage of the heavens.

"Why are the marines attacking the island?"

"It is definitely Akainu and Kizaru."

"Those damn bastards! What could we have done to them?"

"The rumor is that they were looking for Nico Robin, after Morris had reported her to HQ."

"It's all because of that cursed child!"

Kevin peered at the murmuring men, who were sharing the same sight as his own, the downfall of their town. The bellowing impacts pursued by a tremendous explosion, that set off raging perdition had smothered the once abounding town into anarchy. The land quavered from the madness, splintered and pulverized from the might, and burnt to smithereens from those who must have protected it.

"Turn the helm! Navy ships are blocking us!"

"They are gonna fire on us!"

"It is really them! Akainu and Kizaru! Those bastards! They are gonna sink us too!"

"Why are you doing this!? Weren't you here for the Devil Child!?"

"Please, stop!"

Kevin didn't know what was happening. All the tall men and women had obstructed his sight, but he still navigated through the gap, and sauntered towards the other end of the brig. Shoving past the men cursing the marines, his eyes caught sight of the only warship sailing towards them, ten times bigger than their brig, with its uncountable cannons aimed at them. But that wasn't what held his interest. It was the faces of the two Vice Admirals, who were glowering down at them, those callous, emotionless eyes that could easily be passed for dead, staring at what could only be described as their death. Kevin was astonished at the numb feeling that was inundating his heart as he fell on his knees.

It was trepidation.

And, then it happened.

The barrage of cannons homed at them, turning deaf ears to the desperate wails of the civilians, before the brig exploded into another raging conflagration, and became another vessel to sink into the bowel of the sea.

* * *

"Vice Admiral Akainu-sir! Should we resume the cannons firing?"

Akainu wore a snarl on his face, as he watched the island burn, an acquainted sight to him, much like what he had beheld on Ohara, as the intense heat generating from his right hand that had morphed into magma subsided, his arm reverting back to its original form. "No need."

The lieutenant flinched at the callousness of the man.

"Ooh, it seems we have a young survivor there." Kizaru noted pointing down into the ocean, where a raven-haired boy was floating, perched on a wooden plank, but unconscious. "I wonder… how did he survive that explosion?" A golden light glimmered at the tip of his finger. "What a tenacious boy, ne?"

An abrupt detonation in the rear of the ship caught the pair of Vice Admirals' attention, as the bodies of marine officers flew in random directions from the epicenter. The smoke receded to reveal Max standing with a flintlock pistol aimed at them, his eyes cold and pitiless… but he was a bit hesitant. "Vice Admiral Sakazuki and Borsalino, might you consider a recommendation?"

Akainu scoffed. "That is?"

"Leave… now."

"Ooh, if it isn't the infamous Crimson Jäger of the Roger Pirates?" Kizaru mock surrendered. "I wonder what brought you here, Hellbringer of the New World?"

Max's eyes narrowed dangerously. The mere lack of empathy in his eyes made Akainu's callousness seem pale. His bangs casted an ominous shadow over his dead eyes, as he gritted his teeth. "You are testing my patience, Borsalino. It won't do you any good, if you persist on that. I am in no mood to sink you all here, so do yourself a favor and leave while you still can. You have already done enough damage here. It disgusts me to even be here."

Kizaru stuffed his hands inside his pockets, as the lower ranked officers shuddered at the intimidating threat from the man, who was well renowned for backing the claim. "Humph, I had been wondering why a pirate of your caliber was here. It seems that would be a mere coincidence." Akainu noted. "Still, you had been laying low since Gold Roger's execution. Why expose yourself now… to us?"

"I am no punk who would just sit back, and do nothing when scum like you gets off doing anything you want, Sakazuki. Perhaps, I had been on the run from your pathetic marines, but isn't that is what pirates do. I don't remember Kong, Sengoku or even Garp mistaking it for my frailty." Max scoffed irreverently. "Do you think you stand a chance as you are now, eh Sakazuki? Meaninglessly fighting on the sea would be the most imprudent thing any Devil Fruit eater could do. If I wish, I could sink your existence into the sea like Ohara, but I guess I am not really interested right now. You are fortunate I decided to show you leniency, albeit your hideous act."

Akainu's eyes narrowed precariously as he wore a snarl on his face. "What can an old fool do without his sword?" He noted the absence of the katana that should be on Max's hip that had slain many officers effortlessly. "Aren't you being rather imprudent to underestimate us?"

"Wanna bet on that?"

A moment of hesitation passed, before Akainu let out a conceited snort and turned to the pale lieutenant beside him, who was on the verge of collapsing unconscious from sheer fear. "Set sail. Our task here is done."

"B-But sir, we still haven't confirmed the Devil Child's d-death." The lieutenant forbore to the peculiar knot in his stomach from the death glare fixated on him, before he quickly turned to his fellow officers. "Here are your new orders! Hoist the sail! We are returning to headquarters." Hearing a loud splash, the officer's neck snapped around and noted that Max had disappeared off the deck. They peered out at the sea, where the infamous pirate was using their row boat to sail towards the island after having picked up that little boy drowning in the sea.

"Sir, a-are you sure we should just let him go? It's a rare opportunity to even find him. This would be a great accomplishment to capture him here."

Kizaru exhaled a deep breath, and stared at the row boat disappearing within the dense smokes. "Didn't you hear him, Lieutenant-san? He would rather sink the warship than engage into a conflict with us. A prudent choice, considering whom he had to fight, ne?" He said, drawling. "How unjust, but wouldn't it be better to let him go… for now, that is? His strength is nothing to scoff at, you see."

"Sir, what should we report to headquarters?"

"Ooh, Kong-san wouldn't be pleased, but regardless, doesn't Crimson Jäger's presence here justify the extreme action we took, ne? Shame, he had to slip away from our grasp yet again. What an obstinate pirate, he is."

"Understood, Sir."

* * *

Max ran through the wrecked town towards Carl's house, overlooking the incinerated mess and the gore splattered on the ground and walls, as the remains of mortified humans were scattered in every corner. Separated limbs and other body parts were now a familiar sight throughout the town, while many were buried alive under the rubble, and had the life sucked out of them by asphyxiation, or until their bodies were either crushed, or they had been burned to ash. If the sight of dead had been unfamiliar to him, he would have certainly had a hard time keeping his stomach. Yet, this inhuman massacre of these innocent civilians was no less an atrocious and repulsive, compared to everything else he had seen in his life.

"Carl!? Sandra!?"

"Ben!?"

Max shoved the debris away, as he forced his way through the flames barricading his path and into the house. He wore an apprehensive face as he hysterically searched for his family. He couldn't sense even the slightest movement, and he very well knew it wasn't because the lack of effort on his part. Yet, he couldn't help but wish his family might have been spared by some miracle. That was all he could do. He lifted another huge timber beam effortlessly and chucked it away, and peered under more of the rubbles.

"I couldn't have mistaken it. He is still in here." Max muttered fanatically, as he pitched another rock to the side, causing the unbalanced debris to fall upon him, and bury him underneath. Mustering a little of his strength, he burst out, shoving the rubble away with ease and resuming his search. "I know that was Ben. It must be him. I couldn't have mistaken his aura, albeit how unreasonably faint it was. It had to be his."

Max let out a deep sigh when he caught sight of his grandson. A lot taller than he remembered, but then again, the boy had been just a newborn, when he had last seen him three years earlier. The child was unconscious, but astonishingly, completely unscathed, as the young brunet lay in the corner under the piles of debris and planks. Max inspected the debris blocked by the wooden beams and boards that were randomly tilted against the wall, with his grandson underneath them. The timbers had fended off most of the rubbish, and weren't even burnt in the slightest. Add to it the fact that the gaps in the random scattering of planks, were due to iron rods buried in ground around him, which had opened enough openings for the boy to breathe all this time.

Shrugging off his momentary surprise, Max quickly shoved away the load of trash and piles of woods to the side, and cleared his way to his grandson. "Ben?" He picked his grandson, and examined for any wounds. Fortunately, there were none as he suspected. He then peered around with a frown. "Seems like he was the only one here." He sighed, tugging out a thick, unburned blanket from the closet, that was buried underneath the wreckage and used it to swathe Ben before elbowing his way past the burning door.

An hour passed, but the old man couldn't find a trace of anyone else in his family. The smoke from the flames had long since formed into a thick blanket, and the heat from the feral inferno was demoralizing, especially when he had a young boy with him, and another one alone on a boat, docked near the coast. He had somehow found himself somewhere close to Frank's house, but with the entire vicinity leveled, it was impossible to estimate anything in particular, and all those scattered body limbs, and gore had him on edge throughout the time. Sighing in defeat, he hauled the bag of little supplies, he had managed to pilfer from the few barely spared houses, and retraced his path back to the boat.

Max exhaled deeply and then peered back one last time at the burning island. For some reason, he didn't want to believe the losses, he suffered today. He had no reason to. He just wished he was right, somehow. He then tucked Ben along with the other kid in the other end, under the blanket and then, reluctantly shoved the little boat off the sand, and back into the sea before raising the sail and letting the turbulent sea navigate him. As the boat gained more distance, Max resisted the urge to sail back whilst a lone tear found its way from his eye. Wiping the stray tear, he glanced at his grandson for a moment. All he had sought was a nice evening with his grandchildren after three years, and stead he found the entire island consumed in a hellish fire.

"Was it a mere coincidence that I reached the island when I did? Does this mean, the time is near? The fate of the world, in the hands of few peoples… I wonder, are you truly one amongst them?"

Shaking his head, Max looked at the raven-haired kid, mentally deciding what he must do next.

"Perhaps, it would be wiser to drop him on the next inhabited island. Even if the life ahead will be filled with troubles, the journey to the Grand Line might be far too dangerous for a young child."

* * *

The thunder strikes unsettled the air and the sea. The upsurge of tides, and wind blowing had everyone in the Moby Dick on edge, for a while. The giant battleship with a white cachalote figurehead and a skull with a moustache and cross behind for a Jolly Roger, which housed one of the terrifying Yonko, a sovereign, who reigned in the New World, the legendary pirates crew, Whitebeard Pirates, under the supremacy of 'The Strongest Man in the World', Edward Newgate, alias as Whitebeard.

The name of a living monster, a formidable pirate whose name struck fear in the hearts of commoners, pirates, and marines alike.

"Oyaji, a ship is closing in through the storm! It is a marine paddle boat!"

Whitebeard, a huge man with blond hair and a white handle-bar moustache was sitting on an equally huge chair on the deck, donning loose pants tucked into his boots, and a white coat with his Jolly Roger on its back, hung loosely over his broad shoulder, leaving his chest bare, and exposing the rippling muscles, and the scars on his front. His eyelids opened revealing yellow pupils as he peered at the crew member keeping watch from the top of the mast.

"A marine paddleboat? Shouldn't they have sent at least a few dozen warships for you?" A blond-haired man with a black goatee around his chin chuckled. Clad in a blue shirt and gray pants with a sword on his right hip, the 4th division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, Thatch, glanced at the ship. "It is unlike them to attack with a paddleboat, Oyaji."

"Oyaji, it's the Crimson Jäger Max! He wants to meet you!"

"Humph, let him come aboard then. I wonder what brought him here…" Whitebeard said, chugging on another huge dish of booze. "But he better has a good reason to show up in my territory like this."

A minute passed as the little paddleboat drew closer, but suddenly, the tension in the air become so thick that it was almost palpable, dense enough that everyone could have tasted and then all of a sudden, the crew members started collapsing one after another. The numbers of unconscious leapt from ten to hundred, and soon half of the crew was out in the blink of an eye. As if the gravity had quadrupled, the peculiar aberrant effect even caused ripples in the sea, and set off humungous tides while the Moby Dick itself began rocking from the vicious impacts of the waves.

Whitebeard arched a curious eyebrow, as his entire crew was knocked out in an instant with a few exceptions, excluding the division commanders who were completely unfazed. All it took was a moment to start the hysterics amongst the crew, and then cease it entirely. A remarkable feat, and thus, he waited with anticipation for the arrival of the infamous man, as he emptied the barrel of alcohol and pitched it behind him. He exhaled contentedly and wiped the drool with the back of his hand before peering at the man approaching him.

"Took you long enough." Whitebeard said indifferently, tolerant as ever. "What brings you here?"

"My apologies for knocking your crew out like this, Whitebeard. But I see, many still managed to oppose it." Max peered at the familiar faces of the division commanders, and others behind them who somehow endured his will, albeit seemed exhausted. "I wished I could have talked to you alone though."

"You are not the type to show off your strength, Maxwell." Whitebeard muttered, as he noted the large bundle on Max's back. He then pitched a welcoming barrel of booze at his guest, whilst the others slowly cleared the area, and went out of the earshot. "What is it you want to talk about anyway?" Max sighed as he grabbed the drink, and then sat on the floor before untying the knot on his front, swiftly and carefully yanking whatever was on his back onto his lap. He then undid the clothes and revealed the little boy, unaware of his whereabouts as he slept peacefully. "A brat?"

"Yeah, he is my grandson." Max shook his head. "Benjamin D. Kirby Tennyson." He then peered up into the Whitebeard eyes. "I know what you are thinking, Whitebeard. My real name is Maxwell D. Tennyson. You didn't think that my name is Crimson Jäger Maxwell, did you?"

"I don't see the reason why you are telling me that now?"

Max let out a bemused chortle as he guzzled at the barrel, and exhaled blithely. "Of course, you don't." He said, tossing the container away, and sighing audibly as he wiped the saliva off his face. "I spent an entire lifetime sailing the seas under Roger. I fought alongside him, deceived death several times alongside him, won every one of my battles alongside him, celebrated everyday no matter how it had been alongside him, earned my first bounty alongside him, partook in thrilling adventures throughout the world alongside him, and then watched him become the Pirate King. Yet, little does the world know about me. No, that is not exactly right. The world knows nothing about me, and only a few of my old crewmates knew of my true identity."

"I must admit, I had been curious myself. Someone of your formidable caliber took the sea by storm, and yet the marines futilely searched for your history." Whitebeard stroked his chin. "Tell me, what exactly are you here for?"

"Before I tell you that, I want you to know more about my past. I am from West Blue, more particularly from Ohara, that has long since been obliterated by the World Government. Fortunately, my sons were settled elsewhere, so they were spared the fate of other Oharans. My older son, Ben's father, had been a retired archaeologist, but eventually, he gave up on his profession, after learning what other archaeologists been after." Max said, subconsciously stroking his grandson on head. "Couple weeks ago, I travelled to West Blue to see them, but I found the island suffering the similar fate of Ohara. I know little of why, but I couldn't find anyone else except for my grandson. By some fateful miracle, and perhaps the importance he holds, this kid survived, but apparently… the shock was too much for him to bear, and he has been comatose ever since."

"I had already found out about it through the newspaper." Whitebeard admitted. "That was the first time I heard about you since Roger's execution, and the first thing I read about was your involvement in the obliteration of an entire island. However, none of it was making sense, so it had me wondering about the motive of the World Government."

"It's been difficult to obtain proper medical supplies for him because of that." Max chortled acerbically. "I figured out that raising a kid by myself was much more difficult than I thought. I have been a lone wolf for a good while, and I don't know how long I can shake the marines off my tail. Since the annihilation of the Bellwood, I have been exposed to public enough to not earn peace for some time. So, I decided to see you about taking my grandson under your wing, Whitebeard."

Whitebeard scoffed indignantly at the proposal. "Must I remind you: we were enemies?"

"You are right." Max let out an anguished sigh. "Yet, I am here. The sea is treacherous, so is the world. Who understands that better than us? I don't know, what this world has in store for him, but I believe he is the one amongst others, who will shape the new era and the future." He then peered at Whitebeard with a meaningful look. "You are a Yonko, and a terrifying power to oppose. He will be safe in your shadow, I am sure of that. I want him to be prepared for the storm, that Roger set off. That's what I seek for him, to be safe, until I see him someday, and tell him everything he must know. I see no one else whom I can trust more with the future of my grandson, Whitebeard. No one understands the moral code better than you do Whitebeard, so I am willing to trust him to you." He then let out an amused chuckle. "And even though we used to be enemies, we were honored to have you as our greatest adversary."

"What makes you think he wants us for a family?"

"What child doesn't want a family?"

"Fine, as long as you have no regrets." Whitebeard smiled ambiguously. "But, if I had to take a brat, he would become my son, and a part of my crew. If what you speak of him is true, then I will make him a formidable pirate, who will carry my legacy into this new era that you speak of, but until that day, I will make sure that he survives."

* * *

The young Ben gawked up at the humungous man sitting in front of him with wide-eyes, and a gaping mouth. He was terrified. It wasn't hard to tell. But there was awe on his face, and that spark of curiosity in those emerald eyes was something that had never been demonstrated by anyone, who had the fate to cross Whitebeard's path. Peculiar, but astounding. Gulping the lump in his throat, Ben shut his mouth, and then opened it again. "Um… who are you, Oyaji?" That was what Ben had heard others, calling the old big man. He looked scary, but others seemed to be at ease around him. That had the boy wondering, whether the man was really all that frightening as he felt.

Whitebeard's eyes wandered over at the boy, analyzing him as he drank sake straight from the barrel. Wiping the dripping juice off his mouth, he leaned forward to look at the boy more closely. He had been a father figure to his sons long enough to distinct their different moods, and a little kid was no trouble either. "Isn't it polite to tell your name before asking someone you just met, brat?" He couldn't help the smirk that grew on his face, as the brunet gawked at him with an owlish gaze.

Ben tilted his head to the side, curiously eyeing the huge man. He wasn't as intimidating as he thought, and he even scolded him, like his parents usually did, whenever he forgot his manners. He then bowed his head apologetically. "I am s-sorry, Oyaji." He then began awkwardly shifting on his legs, and broke eye contact. "I am Benjamin Kirby Tennyson."

"Hmmm, I am Whitebeard." The humungous man was grinning as he gestured for the boy to come closer. Ben was hesitant, until a gentle shove from Thatch compelled him to pad over to the tall man, and then peer at the towering figure. He was staunched on his leg, as he mustered all his strength to not break eye contact with the looming shadow. The buoyant grin on Whitebeard's face broadened, as he hummed something for a couple of seconds before continuing. "I am going to look after you for the time being." With one hand, he scooped the boy and placed him on his leg. The brunet yelped in surprise, but he was mute the moment, he noticed Whitebeard's gaze on him. "Say, do you have a problem with that, brat?"

The kid frowned, but it seemed cute on his face. "Where is Mommy and Daddy?" He asked, twitching on his new seat, as if he didn't want to sit still, but tried to defy the urge to get off and irritate the man either. "I want to go home."

"How much do you remember, boy?" Whitebeard stroked his chin as he leaned back. He knew, it wasn't the time to ask such things, but something must be clear before progressing ahead. "What had happened, brat?"

Ben blinked. "I was waiting for mommy and daddy… and I don't r-remember anything else after that, but I know I had heard people screaming outside, and I was really scared of all the loud noises." The young boy peered around at the many people staring at him, each having a distinguishable frown on their faces. Some of them, Ben recognized as the people who greeted him when he woke up earlier and offered him some nice food and juice, but most were intimidating. Despite their opinions of him, they all seemed to admire the giant man. "C-Can you drop me home, Oyaji? Please?"

Whitebeard sighed, as he ruffled the brown hair. It was hard to accept that the brat was the grandson of an infamous pirate, and what's worse was the innocence in those emerald eyes that peered at him, pleadingly. He then put his hand on the kid's head, bringing the head back to peer closely into his eyes. "Listen, son, you were sick and unconscious for three weeks. Your grandpa brought you to me, and my doctors healed you. Your grandpa asked me to raise you, so you are going to stay here for the time being. When you get old enough to decide for yourself, I will tell you everything you want to know. But until then, I am going to raise you as my own son. Is that alright with you?" He had to ask. He couldn't offer the boy a family if he didn't want. "Will you join my family?"

Ben nodded hesitantly. "You know my grandpa? Daddy and mommy never speak about him." He then pouted. "Can I see grandpa?"

"Oh… so, you have never met him?" Whitebeard laughed, jerking his head back. "What a mysterious man he is." He then ruffled the brunet's hair and said. "Your grandpa has already left, but he gave his word that he would see you again someday. When the time comes, he will find you himself."

Confused, Ben faintly tilted his head to the other side and raised a curious eyebrow. "You are funny, but I think… I think I like you, Oyaji. So, after I am healed, can I return to my parents?"

Whitebeard grinned down at the boy, ever tolerant of youngsters, as he took a swing of his sake. "Aren't you a pretty cheeky brat?" He then peered at his commanders as his eyes scrutinized for someone, whom he could trust. "Marco?" Said man flinched in his shoes, his back already turned upon fathoming what was coming next. "Where the hell are you going? This brat is your responsibility. Take good care of him, will ya?"

Marco face palmed. He was lean but muscular, a blonde man with a stubble on his chin. He had a purple jacket with a blue sash adorned with a golden belt, knee length gray pants and black sandals under his feet and the insignia of Whitebeard's Jolly Roger proudly borne on his bare chest. He released a deep groan, and looked at Thatch, who was resisting the urge to laugh, but was failing miserably. "Don't." He muttered heavy heartedly. "Just don't."

* * *

 **Now, just so we are clear, Ben is gonna be stuck with a Yonko for some time now and with Whitebeard at that. It was hard to choose, whether I should have left Ben with Max, or with Whitebeard. But after long deliberation, Whitebeard won out with flying color.**

 **Moving on, I would love to say thanks to my betas: 'The God's Eye' and 'Pure Red Crane'. This presentation wasn't possible without their efforts.**

 **Anyway, until the next update, read and review.**


	3. Adventure!

**Chapter 03**

 **Adventure!**

* * *

 **Fleeting Dream!**

* * *

At seven, Ben was still a nobody, at least when evaluated against the monstrous crew of the infamous Whitebeard Pirates. Years of training and honing and his skills were still irrelevant, since Ben had yet to register a single win against the big man crowning the throne, completely goofy and confident as he ceaselessly chugged at the barrel of size equal to Ben.

That annoyed Ben a lot.

How could the old man be this carefree with his relentless attempts to punch him? Punch him? No, that wasn't all. He wanted to hurt the older man so badly, to return the surmised years of pain inflicted upon him. That's what put him in his current predicament.

Clad in a brown knee-length pair of pants and a white shirt, and hiding behind a stack of booze barrels, Ben was waiting for his chance to sneak up on Whitebeard when he would least expect it. A dagger firmly held in his hand and his jaw clenched as he waited in anticipation. Ben noted Whitebeard pitching the big barrel over his shoulder and into the amassing splinter of woods before he reached down for a big dish of sake.

"Now is the chance, yoi."

Ben nodded at the suggestion, and immediately vaulted over the barrels and charged at the Whitebeard. Brandishing the dagger in front of him, Ben leaped to stab Whitebeard, only to be sent crashing back into the stacks of containers by a flick of a finger on his forehead.

"C'mon Oyaji, couldn't you have held back a little more?" Thatch complained animatedly, crouching in front of the barrels and staring at the puddle of alcohol. "Man, what a waste of such delicious sake." He then peered at Marco, sitting at the rail. "And dude, you are so evil. The boy been waiting a lifetime for an opportunity like this, and you ruined it good time."

"Hehe, don't go blaming me." Marco shrugged mischievously. "He should have been careful not to let anyone sneak up on him." He then began stroking his chin, feigning deliberation as he drank from his mug. The sight of him contemplating contradicted his usual uncaring, dull face. "But then again, for all the trouble he has put me through, this was a small payback. I still shudder at the thought of those nightmarish days when I had to babysit a punk like-" Suddenly, a piece of wood smacked Marco in the face, startling him, and almost toppling him over the rail and into the ocean. "What the hell was that for, ya little punk!?"

Ben scrunched his fingers into fists as he stood, completely soaked in sake. "Heh, weren't you babbling somethin' about being careful just now, pineapple head?"

"Tsk, what an annoying kid." Marco scoffed.

"Gurararara!"

"Shut up, Oyaji!" Ben frowned, grumbling loudly. "I swear, someday I will really beat you up and become the captain."

Whitebeard chuckled amiably. "For that, you will have to be at least half as strong as me, brat. Otherwise you will have a hard time coordinating your family."

"Yeah, I would rather avoid following a chicken like you." A tall, tanned man with a black curly mustache spoke jovially. Clad in a dark jacket and blue pant with dual saber on each side of his hip, and a top hat atop his curly black hair, the 5th division commander of Whitebeard Pirates, Vista ruffled the brunet's hair. "You shouldn't hurry with those things. With time and enough training, you shall become as strong as us. Nah, probably even stronger, not that we would let you so easily."

Ben scowled indignantly. "I shall become even stronger than you and Oyaji, and will make Whitebeard Pirates the strongest pirates ever. Just you wait. I will kick your asses in no time, moustache-face."

Whitebeard couldn't help but smile mirthfully. "Truly, what a cheeky little brat you are." He chortled in amusement. "Then, I will hold you on that, son. Become stronger, and I just might let you take over the Whitebeard Pirates."

* * *

Ben quickly parted backward from an extremely tall, muscular man with a long face adorning with black stripes for beard and hair. Donning a black tank top, pair with studded pant and boots, and a red sash, the 3rd division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, Jozu was definitely a monster.

"Dammit, I swear, each of you are such monsters that even monsters would cower in fear." The ten years old boy scowled indignantly.

"Save your puns for later, punk." Marco grumbled, rolling his eyes. "Weren't you going beat Jozu today?"

"Piss off, pine-head!" Ben barked.

Thatch burst into a belly-fit laughter. "Man, he got you good again."

"Shut up."

"Tsk." Ben turned his focus back to Jozu. At least he hadn't presumed that the third division commander would go down quickly. Five minutes would never be enough for a brute like him. Ben crouched low and grinned. "Sure, you ready? Because, here I come."

Jozu's ear perked up as Ben vanished in a blur of speed, his body already twisting to maneuver himself out of the trajectory of the punch that missed his face by inches. His big palm was already honing at Ben out of instinct, but the brunette was smart enough to not let Jozu grab him. Ben wouldn't want to finish the fight yet. Kicking off the brute's torso, Ben barely outreached the man, before spinning around on his heel to lash out a whirl kick. The attempt was thwarted barehanded by Jozu as the impact set off a small shockwave of repercussion. Suddenly, Ben paled as he noticed Jozu holding his leg and the next moment, the brunet found himself flying through the air and crashing into the far side of the temporary arena.

"Oh, seems like this will be a lot more fun." A man with thick, blond dreadlocks spoke. The 7th division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, Rakuyo, wore a yellow coat, green vest and sash that was paired with standard pant and boot.

"That's the spirit of youth." A cross-dressing man named Izo said, clad in a pink and purple kimono with light-red blotched indumenta tied around his waist. His hair was tied, resembling that of a geisha. The 16th division commander spun around, waving his hands graciously as his face was exaggerated with a beaming smile. "Oh, how I wish to be young once again."

"Oh, you are still young, believe me." Thatch mock-grumbled, pulling a face as he said so.

Meanwhile, Ben scaled to his feet and wiped the dirt of his pants. "Now you have done it tough guy." He scowled animatedly. "By the way, you sure you won't use your Devil Fruit powers?"

"I cannot use my Devil Fruit power against a no Devil Fruit user." Jozu stood his ground.

"Whew, that's a relief then. Because, now I can do this without holding back." Abruptly, Ben completely disappeared and crashed head first into Jozu's stomach. The sudden momentum sent the 3rd division commander skidding back. But, Jozu was quick to dig his feet into the ground and halt his movement, only to feel a strong kick to his skull that threatened to buckle him. Jozu reached for the leg, only for his motion to stop when Ben appeared beneath him, crashing an uppercut to the chin. Or, so he thought.

"You got to be kidding me, right?" Ben staggered, his right eye twitching as he quickly leaped back. "Who stops a kick with their head?"

"I didn't feel a thing." Jozu said as if that explained everything, flicking a piece of dirt off his forehead.

Ben blanched. "You sure you aren't a total freak? Wait, who am I kidding."

"Huh?"

"He did it again, didn't he?" Thatch couldn't help but marvel. He had seen Ben grow stronger every day, and each day had been nothing but entertainment and fun for the crew with the brunet around.

Marco nodded once. "Yeah, he somehow negated his presence for a moment. That is what caught Jozu off guard. Jozu didn't only lose sight of the punk, but also his immediate presence. Ben sure has come a long way, yoi."

"If it had been someone else, that combo would have proved fatal." Vista noted absentmindedly. "It was pretty fast too. Honestly, I would have trouble myself after taking something like that head-on. I think even Jozu must have felt that one."

Whitebeard pitched the empty barrel away and stood up as he wiped the juice with the back of his hand. "Oi, brat, get your ass here."

"Shut up, Oyaji!" Ben shouted exasperatedly. "Can't you see I am busy beating your commander?"

"Gurararara!" Whitebeard laughed loudly. "Beating, heh? What a cheeky, snot-nosed brat you are." He chuckled good-naturedly. "In that case, I will be your opponent." He spoke, grinning widely. "Come at me with everything you have got. Show me how much you have improved."

Ben was grinning like a big maniac, excitement burning into his emerald eyes. "You sure?" He smirked irreverently, already stretching his hands in preparation. "I won't hold back. So, it might hurt a little."

"Say that after you really land a hit, brat." Whitebeard scoffed jeeringly.

"Now this is going to be real fun." Marco was now attentive at the sight. "If Oyaji wants to fight, the brat must have left a pretty good impression. But, I can't help but wager that Oyaji wants to shut the punk's trap. I wish Oyaji would beat some respect into him."

"Yare, yare, that was cold." Thatch commented in amusement. "I know Ben can be imprudent but that is on you, dude. He learnt everything from you, after all. To think, you would wager your own student getting thrashed."

"Like I knew it would come to bite me in the ass later." Marco grumbled acerbically, rolling his eyes as he said so. His was body leaned against the rock, his head tilted with his cheek held against his palm. It would be safe to assume he couldn't care less about Ben by his facade, but his eyes slipped otherwise. "Anyway, it's not like he could win against Oyaji when he can't even handle the commanders, yoi."

"Oi, oi, he's only ten, dude."

Marco blinked in surprise as if a new realization struck him. He looked at Thatch and shrugged. "Pardon me, but with the way that little punk run his mouth-" Suddenly, an empty barrel smashed into his face, sending him flipping over the rock and on the sand.

"Can't you jerks shut your traps?! I swear, you are seriously asking for a butt-kickin'!"

"See?" Marco moaned.

Thatch could only pull his face, and shake his head sympathetically. "Only when it's you, dude."

Ben rushed forth and threw a powerful punch, mustering all the strength he could. Whitebeard simply raised his right palm to thwart the punch. A big repercussion set off upon impact that nearly forced everyone to strengthen their footing, lest they fly back. Sands wiped away from the epicenter as Ben endeavored to overpower the impenetrable defense. But then the brunet rotated, and lashed out with a kick and it once again slammed into the open palm of Whitebeard. However, this time, the ground behind Whitebeard trembled from the shockwave and ruptured, shattering into fragments from the force. Ben felt Whitebeard grab his leg and suddenly, his body was sent soaring backwards.

Ben flipped and skidded along the ground before taking off at high speed. He began smashing his hands into Whitebeard without pulling his punches. Each attack invigorated the brunette to continue with the next one as loud booming noises reverberated. Punch, kick, more punches followed by more kicks were effortlessly being stopped by Whitebeard, who let out a big wide smile on his face.

 _'He has become stronger.'_

Ben once again disappeared from sight and Whitebeard was forced to move his body out of the trajectory of the outstretched appendage, the kick sailing past him. Noting the brunet fading from sight again, the older man barely managed to feel the transposition in winds behind, and impeded the punch with the back of his hand.

 _'No wonder, the kid bear the blood of the Crimson Jäger. At this pace, the New World must be prepared for another storm.'_

Ben stopped his blitz, and sprang back to part some distance, his right eye twitching. "What the hell are you doing, Oyaji?! Why are you not fighting back?" He growled indignantly. "This ain't training, so be a man and come at me too!"

Whitebeard laughed. "You think you will stand a chance with me retaliating? You are hundred years too young to take me head-on, brat."

"Of course, I do!" Ben said flippantly.

Whitebeard cocked an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"Bring it on!"

"You know what? I suddenly have a bad feeling 'bout this." Thatch stroked his chin in deliberation. "So much for fun, eh. I swear, that brat has been dropped on his head. How else could someone forget those flights?"

"Oh, the valor of youth." Izo commented.

Marco, though, wore a big cheesy grin on his face. "I have been waiting for this. It's time to flip that runt off his feet. Go for it, Oyaji!"

"Not the kind of expression I expected." Vista remarked impassively. "But, I suppose, I would be wrong to expect anything else from you here."

Jozu simply folded his big hands on his shoulder and exhaled a profound breath. "Everyone, be prepared to search for Ben throughout the island. He should be sent flying any second no-" Before the 3rd division commander could even finish, Ben's screams echoed loudly as his body was sent flying through the air.

Whitebeard glanced down at his fingers, and laughed. "I guess, my fingers are still sufficient for all that talk."

* * *

"You called, Oyaji?" Whitebeard peered at the brunet and nodded once. Ben entered the room grumpily and shut the door behind him before leaning against the wall with his hands intertwined on his chest.

"You did pretty good there, kid."

"Yeah, except for the part where you sent me flying." Ben scoffed off handedly.

Whitebeard chuckled mirthfully. "Right. But, you asked for it."

"Whatever." Ben scowled, clicking his tongue in annoyance. "So, what did you call me for? Shouldn't ya rest already?" His eyes drew toward some movements as Whitebeard sat up in an upright position, and then beckoned him to come closer. Rolling his eyes, Ben frowned. "I ain't a kid anymore, Oyaji."

"To me, you will always be a kid." Whitebeard smirked, holding onto his laughter. "Now come here. It's been a while since we have talked properly." Ben reluctantly padded over toward the tall man, only for the Whitebeard to scoop the brunet with one hand, and place him on his leg – same as the old man had done all those years ago, when Ben had first met him for the first time. Ben scowled, but refuted from complaining as Whitebeard's big hand disheveled his hair. "So, I heard you have been pretty upset?"

"After losing once again?" Ben rolled his eyes, waving his hand flippantly. "Is that a new thing?" Tilting his head, Ben peered out of the window, toward the dark gloomy sky. An encouraging hand stroking his head caused him to blink away the tears slowly gathering in his eyes. "I am just angry that I lost. That's all."

"Uh-huh."

"You promised to tell me everything about my hometown when I turned ten." Ben mused loudly. "You even fought me. That was unusual of you. So, I thought if I won you would tell me. Yet, I went and lost." The caressing has become kinder at the brunet muttering. "Now, you won't tell me anything again."

Whitebeard chuckled, slightly bemused. "I never said that I would tell you, if you had won today." Ben blinked in bewilderment as he wiped the tears from his eyes. "I called you here tonight, because I think it is about time you know everything. It's also a promise I made to your grandpa, and everybody knows, Whitebeard don't break his promises."

"So, you will tell me?"

Whitebeard nodded once, a grim frown gracing his big face. "I will begin with your name then, son." He began. "Do you know your true name?"

Ben tilted his head to the side. "Of course, Benjamin Kirby Tennyson."

Whitebeard shook his head pessimistically. "You are a D. You are Benjamin Kirby D. Tennyson. You are the one who has inherited the Will of the D., Ben. You are the natural enemy to those who call themselves Gods. Because, only a D. bears the powers that can rival Gods."

"Oyaji, tell me everything please."

* * *

"Oi, punk, what am I hearing?"

Ben tilted his head to peer at Marco, who was glaring at him in utter annoyance and vexation. "Why are you upset, bird-brain?" He let out a chortle, the corner of his mouth curling into a grin. "To think, you have grown a little fond of little ole' me?"

"I will not allow it."

Ben smiled in mirth, as he once again leaned against the railing and peered at the dark sky, embellished with millions of stars. He liked this sight. No matter how many times he saw it, he never found it enough. In the New World, such a spectacular sight was a rarity in of itself. So, to have peace around was always worthwhile. "Yeah, I will miss you too."

Marco grabbed the collar of the brunette and forced him to look into his face angrily. It was rare to see him lose his usual cool demeanor. "You are not joining the marines. I don't care how you feel. I don't care what happened. I don't care if you detest me forever. But, I will not allow you to leave Moby Dick and join those marines. That will never happen."

"Oi, dude, let him go." Thatch appeared from behind and forced Marco to release Ben. "You are choking him, dammit. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Marco clicked his tongue, looking the other way. "The punk's jokes are not funny anymore."

Ben shook his head, and fell on his knees. "Thanks, Thatch." He breathed rapidly. "Pineapple-head has lost it." He sighed in utter annoyance. "Where does he get off saying that he won't allow anything? Who the hell does he think he is to not let me join the marines? I can work out my life by myself, dammit."

"I was the one who raised you, brat."

"Oh well, all I want to do is punch you in the face then."

"I should have thrown you in the water all those years ago, punk. For all the trouble, I always found that appealing. I wish I could have gone through with my temptation."

"Shove those regrets where sun don't shine, jerk."

Thatch shook his head in exasperation, keeping both Ben and Marco at arm's length of each other. He suspected, they would jump at others' throat otherwise. "Seriously, how the hell did you even get along with that attitude all this time?"

"WE NEVER GOT ALONG!"

Thatch sweat dropped. "'Kay, I get it. You never got along." He mumbled incoherently. "So, why not call it a night? You have a long day tomorrow, so you need all the rest you can get."

Scrambling to his feet, Ben stuffed his hands into his pockets and strolled off. "Whatever."

Thatch watched Ben leave, before he finally returned his focus at Marco. "You do understand how hard it must have been for Ben, eh?" He scowled. "One moment, he's been living with his family and suddenly he wakes up, and learns that they are dead. Now, when he has finally learned the reason, do you really think he could really restrain himself? We should be glad that he isn't calling for anything dangerous like declaring war or revenge. He took the best approach, if not the safest. You were the one who taught him to reason levelheaded."

"That doesn't matter." Marco frowned. "He's just ten."

"Ben is almost as strong as us. Didn't you see his fight with Jozu and others? In physical strength alone, Ben is stronger than both of us, and he has the potential to even leave us in dust. Don't forget, he had been trained by Oyaji, the strongest man in the world."

"He doesn't even have any Devil Fruit powers."

"Ben doesn't need one." Thatch pointed out. "Oyaji was willing to offer him a Devil Fruit. But, he refused because he believes Devil Fruits are weakness. He is just like Crimson Jäger in that regard. Those things probably run in the family."

Marco clicked his tongue, refuting from giving up. "He isn't prepared for the outside world."

"And, he won't ever be if we hide him away forever." Thatch put a reassuring hand on Marco's shoulder, and grinned widely. "Talk to him. Understand him. We both know, after Oyaji, he respects you the most. Think reasonably, 'kay? You don't have to approve his decision either, but at the moment, all he needs is support from us. You never disappointed me. Don't start now."

"Tsk."

"What?"

"I was wondering why your head usually works best in situations like these."

* * *

"You awake?"

"…"

Marco sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled a face. "Sorry 'bout earlier." He mused unenthusiastically. "I overreacted out there, punk."

"Whatever." An awkward pause followed up before the brunette spoke again. "It's good to hear you are doing fine, bird-brain."

Marco peered at the brunette from the corner of his eyes. Ben was still facing the other side, not moving a bit. At least, he didn't shut him off this time. That was a plus. Shaking his head, Marco put a hand on the brunet's head and lightly stroked him. "Why would you want to infiltrate the World Government?"

"…"

"It wouldn't change anything for you. Not only did they obliterate Ohara, but even Bellwood wasn't spared. If the marines find out that you were a refugee from Bellwood, they will stop at nothin' until you are dead. That wouldn't be the worst of it. If they find about your relation with Crimson Jäger or Oyaji, you are dead meat. Knowing all the risk, why would you be so adamant about joining the marines, yoi?"

"Until now, I had no particular dislike towards marines. They were natural enemies to pirates, and that was all of it. So, I'm just curious why the protector of justice and peace would slaughter innocents." Ben muttered absentmindedly. "I know it is not going to be easy infiltrating them. So, I will need some fake background information. But, once I join them, I will be able to see with my own eyes just what it is they sought. What it is that I lost my family for? What vision do they have that makes them better than us pirates? What is the justice that they carry on their back?"

"You want me to believe you don't have any ulterior motive, yoi?"

Ben shook his head pessimistically. "No." He mumbled. "Someday, I want to prove how wrong they are. I will bring the true justice to all the culprits behind the Ohara and Bellwood incident. I know, if I went and assassinated them, it would ruin Oyaji's name. So, I will become stronger, strong enough to fight them all head on. They will make me stronger to fight against them."

Another brief moment of silence pursued before Marco rose to his feet. "I hope you won't regret it."

Ben turned around and looked at Marco intently. "Say, if I do regret this someday, would you all still be there for me?"

Marco let out a snort. "You don't have to ask that. You should know us better than that. We don't shun family. At least, I think we are a family, yoi."

"Thanks, pineapple head."

"Go to sleep, punk. Oh, and don't go running your mouth in front of those marines like you do here."

"Yeah, don't take me for yourself."

* * *

"Oi, Ben, you sure you are doing this?"

Ben bobbed his head once, his eyes fixated on the small island in the far horizon as the mini-version of Moby Dick sailed against the treacherous current. Turning around, he looked at Thatch with a smirk. "I can't back out now. I will see it through, no matter what." he muttered before a shine glimmered in his eyes. "But, don't become too lazy. If you do, you won't be able to keep up with me when I return."

"Don't grow a second head, brat." Thatch laughed. "Watch yourself out there, 'kay? Marco was definitely right 'bout one thing. That place ain't a joke. Drop your guard, and we just might have to come running to save yer ass."

"I know."

"Marco's gonna be seriously crabby with you not around."

"Don't talk 'bout him." Ben grumbled. "If he wanted, he could have dropped me ashore hours before. I wouldn't have to sail all the way here."

"I doubt he would have." Thatch chuckled in mirth. "He would have either flew around, or just dropped you somewhere. The other one sounds more like him though. We would always catch him grumbling 'bout that anyway."

"Yeah, knowing him, I wouldn't be surprised." Ben mused, leaning against the railing. "Do you think he was dropped on his head as a kid? I think he has got a nut loose or somethin'."

Thatch broke into a hysterical laughter as he held his belly. "Boy, that was good. Come to think of it, you do have a valid point there. He is a man with a bird brain and fruit head. It would be rare to find such combinations."

"Commander! Should we sail to the dock?"

Ben looked over Thatch's shoulder towards the crew member and then back at Thatch. Noting the 4th division commander's hesitance, Ben shook his head. "No need to dock at the island. If the people finds Whitebeard Pirates Jolly Roger flags, it would make things difficult for me. Lend me a boat. I will set sail from here."

Thatch gestured the man to do as the brunet recommended before he returned his focus on Ben. "I will come with you."

"Nah, no need." Ben waved his arm dismissively, peering back toward the horizon. "It's better this way. I have to start somewhere. Neither you nor Marco will be there for me every time." He mused, stuffing his hand into his pocket, as another crew member dropped a small paddle-boat into the water. "Thanks for bringing me this far though."

Thatch nodded supportively. "Take care out there. Remember, if we find out that you are in trouble, we will be there in a jiffy. We have your vivre card, and you have Oyaji's."

"Sure thing." Ben muttered, leaping over the railing and landing on the boat. Turning around, he looked up towards the man smiling at him, and he tipped his green striped black hat in farewell. "Tell Marco and Oyaji to not worry 'bout me. I will definitely come see them whenever possible."

Thatch threw a two fingers salute as he watched Ben row the paddle boat towards the first destination of his big ambition. "Time sure flies' by. It feels like only yesterday when the Crimson Jäger had left him with us. Man, it's gonna be lonely without him around, nah?"

"Yeah."

Thatch glanced over his shoulder at Marco. "You know, you could have at least told him goodbye. There was no point in coming with us otherwise."

"Goodbye, eh? I wouldn't want to do that ever."

* * *

 **Been a while since this story seen any update and I am afraid that the next one might take even longer. That's how demotivated I am. But, I will try to update whenever possible, as long as I don't lose my drive completely.**

 **Anyway, we got to see a bit about Ben's life with Whitebeard Pirates, and the conversation between Marco and Thatch also helped to elucidate their relationships with Ben. Anyway, the major issue was the potential of Ben. I am still unsure, but if Ben is being trained by Whitebeard, there is no way that he wouldn't be a badass, XD.**

 **Big thanks to my betas: 'The God's Eye' and 'Pure Red Crane', who helped to pick off typos and grammar, and made the chapter decent enough to read.**

 **Anyway, until the next update, read and review.**


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